Paternity
by Noblerat
Summary: In honour of all father's in this world: father's day writing! A five-year-old Raoul and an uncertain Athos in it. Cuteness may appear ;)


It's just a little shortie for father's day. Again Athos and Raoul, my very favourite ones. :) Characters are borrowed from Alexandre Dumas, I do not own them. ;)

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It was so difficult to him. The fact that he became a father seemed so unbelievable to him, even though he had this young boy by his side for five years by that time.

'What would have become of me if I hadn't had my loyal Grimaud?' thought Athos lying in the large, comfortable bed in his room. The clock striked midnight yet he could not sleep. There were some occasions when he just kept on thinking about the past few years, that night with Marie Michon or the boy's future. The boy... his son.

'You became a father, don't you?' asked he slowly whispering into the darkness and closing his eyes. 'You've got a life that will always rely on you, need you. You must take responsibility from now on, Olivier, there's no other choice.' he growled with anger. Yes, the Comte de La Fére who could remain so cool in the most dangerous situations was angry with himself and maybe a little bit afraid. 'What the hell was wrong with me when I accepted that beautiful, charming woman's offer?! Ah, yes... Marie. She seemed to be heaven-sent, a real angel that night. And as it turned out, she was the devil herself.

'Still, you can't escape. It's your destiny, comrade.' murmured Olivier while he turned to his left side and tried to sleep.

Barely had he fallen asleep when he heard the creak of the door and some light steps. At first, Athos thought that it was his servant, Grimaud. The loyal fellow had those strange habits to come and see how he's doing since he had came home with that baby boy and fallen into deep desperation sometimes. But no, it was not Grimaud. These steps were even lighter.

Olivier opened his eyes at that very moment in which a short shadow stopped next to his bed. This shadow had deep brown eyes and disheveled blonde hair and in addition a frail, thin body. A short glance was more than enough for the man in the bed to realize that the figure was none other than his son, Raoul. The kid didn't seem to notice that his father was awake, because he was examining the room carefully and maybe the bed's other side as well.

'What are you doing here, Monsieur?' whispered Athos, causing his son wince in surprise.

'I... I couldn't sleep, sir' answered Raoul in a low tone. His weak, but melodic voice had a hint of fear in it.

'Nightmares?'

'Nightmares, sir' nodded the boy, lowering his eyes. He knew what the count said about those things and has already felt that saying these words may bring another lecture to his blonde head, but there was something inside him, an inner voice which had urged him to do tell the man what troubles him.

'Trifles' said the Comte de La Fére in a strict way. 'A man does not bow to his mind's evil plays, you know that, don't you?

'Yes, sir' the kid's voice was so weak that Olivier barely understood his words. As he was watching his son he could feel his heart begin to pound faster. He tried to regain his almost entirely lost self-control, but with not much success. Raoul seemed so innocent, so vulnerable... he just couldn't be as rigorous as he wanted to be.

'Were they so frightening?' he asked with a deep sigh. The child was too anxious to answer properly, he just nodded in agreement. Athos's blue eyes examined him carefully. He had to admit that he could not refuse the unsaid request of his son. The count moved away a bit, making enough space for the boy and lifted up his blanket.

'Oh, monsieur, I do not deserve it!' cried out the little man. If he could have seen the expression on his father's face, he would have been so proud! Such a soft smile he was wearing then!

'Either you deserve it or not' responded Olivier and he didn't even tried to hide his pleasure, 'just get in bed already, because we both need some rest, don't we?'

'Yes, sir' Raoul agreed and in a moment he was lying right next to his father's bare chest.

'Good night, Raoul' whispered the count. The boy embraced his body with his little hands.

'Good night, dad' Olivier's heart gave a leap and he stopped breathing for a second. His son just called him 'dad'. Though he had warned him that he was not to be called father by him, with his sleepy mind Raoul forgot to obey to this order.

Athos tried to deny it, but could not: it pleased him more than anything in this dark and cruel life.


End file.
